Promises
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Thomas is finally with the one he loves in Haven, and now that he has him, he'll never let him go. (Thominho cuteness)


Promises

"Is this the place we used to love?

Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

...this could be the end of everything,

so why don't we go

somewhere only we know?"

–Keane

...

That day, the day after, when Thomas woke up, he had no idea where he was.

Well, he knew he was in a bed, one of those soft, fur-lined beds that everyone had in the little community of Haven. And he knew that the ceiling above him was made from interwoven branches and tree limbs. And that the walls were wooden. It was still a bit dark, maybe a little before dawn. So, he was in a log house, which meant he was definitely in Haven. But this wasn't his house...

Thomas blinked, trying to fight through the sleep dragging at his eyelids and his memories. He reached up to rub the tiredness from his face. To his surprise, the movement jostled someone next to him and he heard a sleepy mumble. He glanced over to his right. Ohhhhhh. Right. This makes sense now.

He was lying in bed, under fluffy, soft furs, and a beautiful boy was sleeping next to him. His hair was as black as coal and messily spiked. His skin was olive-toned and smooth to the touch. Only his shoulder showed above the covers, one strong arm looped loosely around Thomas' waist. He was lost in some dream, head nestled against Thomas' bare chest. Thomas felt his heart bloom with affection, just looking at him. Minho.

Well, at least NOW he knew where he was. This was the day after, of course. The day after their first night together. He shouldn't have thought about that because images instantly resurfaced in his mind. He blushed, even though no one was there to know what he was thinking.

He looked again at Minho's sleeping form. Absently, he trailed his fingers very lightly down Minho's chest. God, I love you, he thought. And he did.

He had fallen in love with Minho the first moment he saw him, when the snarky Runner had the guts to mouth off to Alby. It had, unfortunately, gone downhill from there. Thomas had been broken-hearted to find out that Minho was in love with Newt. The only reason he had ever had the "feelings" he had for Teresa and then Brenda was because he wanted to hide his pain over Minho. He wouldn't dare try to break Minho and Newt up, not when they were so perfect together. Minho was happy, and as long as that was true, Thomas would let him go. But then Newt died. It had been devastating, awful, for Thomas and Minho both. Thomas had never wanted to kill his best friend, but Newt had begged him to in his final moments. And after, when they came to Haven, Minho confessed that he had fallen for Thomas. After that, they'd been inseparable.

And I'll never let you go, Thomas thought, gazing at Minho lying next to him. Not ever.

Light was barely beginning to seep between the tiny gaps in the roof. Dawn was coming. Soon, Haven would be waking up and there was always work to be done. Thomas sighed. He didn't want to get up and face this day, but he knew he had to. Softly, he raised his hand and stroked his fingers through Minho's hair. "Hey," he whispered. "Minho. You have to wake up."

Minho stirred and gave an annoyed sound that meant in Sleep-Talk screw you.

Thomas chuckled and continued to tease his boyfriend, tracing his eyebrows and the curve of his nose with one finger. "C'mon, Min, you can't sleep all day. You gotta get up."

"No," Minho mumbled stubbornly. When Thomas brushed his finger over his bottom lip, Minho growled and touched a kiss to Thomas' fingertip.

Thomas grinned. "There's work to do out there," he reminded him quietly. "We can't lay in here all day."

"Five more minutes," Minho pleaded, pulling Thomas closer, until he was flush against him. He snuggled close and rubbed his cheek against Thomas' chest. "I just wanna hold you."

Thomas nearly melted right then. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with Minho all day. But he knew he couldn't. "Minho..."

"Please, just give me five minutes," Minho murmured. He touched his mouth to Thomas' collarbone, leaving a trail of tiny kisses up Thomas' neck. He rested his head on the pillow beside Thomas, so that he could give him puppy eyes. "Please, baby?" he asked, turning his Adorable-Yet-Drop-Dead-Sexy on.

"I dunno..."

"Sweetheart? Darling? Gorgeous?"

Thomas snorted disbelievingly. "Gorgeous?" he repeated.

"Well, you are," Minho told him, a smirk curving one side of his mouth. He let his dark eyes trail over Thomas, making the other boy shiver. "You're unbelievably gorgeous."

Thomas dropped his eyes, bashful. "This still won't get you out of work today," he muttered.

"Oh, it won't?" Minho asked, arching an eyebrow. His devilish smirk grew wider. "Maybe this will." And he leaned in and sank his mouth slowly onto Thomas'.

Oh.

Thomas had almost forgotten how addictive this was, how soft and sweet. Minho was kissing him lovingly, deeply, pausing only to nibble at Thomas' bottom lip. Thomas actually moaned into Minho's mouth, kissing back desperately. Little shocks of pleasure danced through him with every touch. Minho's hand that had been at Thomas' waist slid up his torso, over his toned abs, up to his chest. The feel of Minho's palm slipping over his skin drove Thomas wild. He arched up, aching for more, and gasped out, "Minho."

Minho suddenly shifted, holding himself over Thomas, pinning the other boy beneath him. He kissed a scorching path down the center of Thomas' throat, nipping at his collarbone. Thomas whimpered, his hands finding their way to the strong stretch of Minho's back. His fingers glided upward and felt the lovely flex of muscle under skin. Minho gave a sharp sigh of pleasure and nuzzled Thomas' neck. "Do you want me, Thomas?" he asked in a low whisper.

"God, yes, I want you," Thomas breathed, clinging to him.

Minho's mouth quirked into a smile against Thomas' skin. He drew back to look down at Thomas smugly. "Too bad," he said simply. "We have work to do, remember?"

Thomas gaped at him. "I hate you."

"I know," Minho replied cheerfully, pecking Thomas' lips once more. Then he rolled back off of him, settling down beside him with an arm still around his waist. He looked at him and absently stroked his thumb over Thomas' side. "I love you," he whispered gently.

Thomas relaxed at the words and shifted closer to Minho. "I love you too," he murmured, placing a kiss on Minho's nose and making him smile. He snuggled closer to his boyfriend, looping an arm around his waist. "Promise you'll stay with me, okay?" he asked in a small voice.

"I promise," Minho said softly. He ran a hand through Thomas' hair. "I promise to stay with you, and hold you while you sleep, and kiss you right when you're in the middle of saying something, even though you always say that annoys you." He brushed their foreheads together and went on in a whisper. "And to make love to you like no one else ever could. To spend my life with you."

Thomas shivered at the words and hugged Minho to him. "I'm yours, Minho," he murmured into his shoulder.

"Always?" Minho asked, burying his face in the curve of Thomas' neck.

Thomas smiled. "Always."


End file.
